Valerie lay in bed looking at the big, fat digital numbers on her bedside clock.
3:21. March 21. The first day of spring, the day when her daughters and the others from the Daisy Troop plunged over the side of the bridge into the choppy waters of Hood Canal.
Without waking Kevin, she got up and slipped on her bathrobe, a Christmas gift from her daughters the year before. That night, she felt a compulsion to check on the girls. It was as if she was being called to do so, quietly, maybe in the way that dogs can only hear certain whistles.
Valerie crept up the stairs and turned the low knob on Hayley’s door. Moonlight flooded the room, and it was clear that the bed was empty. Racing to Taylor’s room across the narrow landing of the staircase, she saw that Taylor’s bed was empty too.
Where on earth were they?
Her brown eyes puddled, but Valerie Ryan didn’t cry. And then she felt it: a mother’s intuition. She touched Taylor’s pillow, still molded with an imprint of her head.
My babies are OK.
LIGHTS FROM A DISTANT NEIGHBOR’S HOUSE sparkled against the black water of Paradise Bay as the tide slowly, sluggishly shifted in the stillness of the night. Shania cut the headlights and pulled into the driveway. No one in the car spoke—partly because there was no making real sense of what they’d seen, but also because they’d wanted to catch Moira off guard.
“I’m calling her,” Taylor said, as she pressed her ear to her phone. “Ringing now.”
“Moira Windsor? I know this is late. It’s Taylor Ryan,” she said.
“Taylor Ryan? Really?”
“Yes,” Taylor said. “You’ve been calling.”
“Yes, I have. I want to talk to you.”
Taylor delivered the understatement of her life. “You’ve really been a pain—like some kind of stalker. Facebooking us! Leaving annoying messages! Bothering our friends. We’re kind of pissed off. But, yeah, my sister and I will talk to you.”
“That’s great,” Moira said, indifferent to anything other than what she’d wanted. “When?”
“How about now?”
“Okay,” Moira said. “I’d rather do it in person, but fine. I’ll put you on speaker so I can take notes.”
Taylor smiled; as nervous and tired as she was, she loved every moment of this.
“You don’t understand,” she said. “We’re here. At your house. Right now.”
A curtain in the window by the front door parted a sliver, then widened. Moira peered out over the gravel driveway toward the idling Camry.
“So you are,” she said. “Hang on. I’ll let you inside.”
Colton got out, but his mom stayed in the car. A trail of exhaust curled from its tailpipe into the cold air.
Moira, fully dressed even at that ridiculous hour, opened the door and came down the steps, squinting into the light from the car. She could see the teenagers silhouetted in the light. The scene was eerie and beautiful.
Hayley immediately recognized Moira as the young woman who’d been arguing with their father at the pizza place.
“I’ve seen you,” she said. “You were yelling at my dad.”
“Actually, he was doing the yelling,” Moira said.
Why hadn’t their father said something about Moira that night? What had she said to him if she wasn’t a fan wanting a free book?
“Who’s that?” Moira said, indicating Colton.
“My sister’s boyfriend,” Taylor said. For the first time, the words felt good instead of acid reflux-inducing. “His mom is here too.”
She looked over at the car, still running. Shania had rolled down the window and moved her hand. It wasn’t a wave—just an indicator that a person was there.
There was no need to be friendly. This wasn’t about that at all.
“Just what do you want with them?” Colton asked, now standing slightly in front of both girls. He was clearly on their side of things.
“This is between us,” Moira said, looking at the girls, bypassing Colton’s glaring stare. “And they know what I’m after.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked, his warm, angry breath leaving puffs of white vapor in the air.
“Do you mind? This has nothing to do with you.” She looked at Colton and then turned back to Hayley and Taylor. “I saw the tape,” she said.
“So what?” Taylor said. “Tape’s gone.”
Moira looked puzzled. “Gone? How so?”
“I burned it up,” Colton said.
“You’re a lot of trouble, aren’t you?” Moira stared hard at Colton, annoyed that she had to deal with anyone other than the twins. She took a breath and held out her phone. “Savannah’s tape might be gone. That is, if you were stupid enough to burn it. Doesn’t matter to me. I made a copy. Not the best quality, but good enough.”
“I don’t believe you,” Hayley said. “Show me.”
Moira looked down at her phone and pressed a button to start the video. The image was miniscule, but it was good enough to see the pasta message. “Then you’ll talk to me?” she asked.
“If you have the video, what choice do we have?” Taylor asked. Taylor was stringing Moira along, of course. She would never talk to her. Never.
Moira brightened a little, glad that things were going her way. “None. None that I can see. By the way, do you know what I’m thinking now?”
Hayley wanted to say something about how there were no synapses firing in Moira’s head, but she actually did know what she was thinking.
So did Taylor.
“You need to leave us alone,” Hayley said.
Shania tapped the horn, and the teens looked over at the car. Moira turned too, but the clouds blocked the moon and it was hard to see in the dim light.
A dog started barking, or rather, yapping. It was a very familiar bark-yap.
Hedda!
Taylor lost it right then. “You’re the one who took our dog? You took our effing dog?”
She pushed past Moira, nearly shoving her to the ground, and rushed up to the porch. Her eyes were darts of anger. Colton was at her heels.
Stunned by being strong-armed, Moira steadied herself. “It wasn’t like that. I found her. I was going to bring her back to your place tomorrow.”
“You are such a big liar,” Hayley said.
Moira started to sputter. “I promise. I was. I was going to bring her back. I saw on your Facebook wall that she was missing.”
Taylor opened the door, bent down, and picked up the dog—the laziest, fattest, ugliest doxie in the history of the world was in her arms. At that moment, no one could have taken that dog from her.
“What a liar!” Taylor repeated. “We’re getting out of here.”
Hayley tugged at her sister. “Wait! What about the recording?”
“I don’t care,” Taylor said. “I don’t deal with people like that.”
“I’m sitting on the story of stories,” Moira said. “And I’m going to tell the world about you. About what you two can do.”
“Just shut up, you psycho dog-stealer!” It was Colton. “Shut it!”
“Wait! We can work something out!” Moira said. Her voice was pleading, desperate. She didn’t want to lose this opportunity. She needed to talk to those girls. “You can trust me to do a good job!”
“This isn’t about a news story, and you know it,” Taylor said.
Moira was frantic, spinning around and trying to figure out a way to get them to stay. Her light eyes flashed with fear. Everything she needed, wanted, had to have, was slipping away.
“Don’t leave! You’ll be sorry if you do.”
What came out of her mouth then were the words of truth. Whatever she wanted, it was important enough to threaten them.